Every encounter I’ve had with the Lords was fake, from the meals Tristian so painstakingly chose for me to the soft, comforting safety of Dimitri’s bed. Sure, I’ve been hiding my motive for coming here—for protection from my stalker, Ted—but I signed that contract and I agreed to be their Lady. I stopped fighting back. There for a minute, it’d really felt like things had shifted. It’d seemed as if Dimitri—Rath—and Tristian were men I could curl up against, count on, trust. How unbearably pathetic.
